The Endless Bottle
by disenchanted fangirl
Summary: Meet Padme Jones, a typical thirty eight year old living in California. Her present life is so much better than her past. Journey through twenty years of Padme's life in this short story full of jealousy, love, problems, and friendship as she finds her way to life she has always dreamed of. GERARD WAY/OC- in the beginning


Hello, I'm Padme Jones, former barista, piano player, teacher, chess enthusiast, and a (former) raging alcoholic. I live in a nice little apartment (about two blocks from the local bar) and had a neighbor, Gerard Way- Coffee enthusiast, vocalist, artist, and also a (former) drug addict and raging alcoholic like me. He was the reason twenty -three year old me was stuck at a bar every night trying to forget.

* * *

I guess I've liked him since high school. I was a nobody, he was a nobody- so we'd been good friends right? Wrong. I was invisible to _everyone_. I didn't honestly care. There was nobody ever there to pester me about anything, and since I was practically invisible, I was free to do as I pleased. I lived for music. Piano was my special skill set- and still is. So, instead of going to college, (like my parents wanted me to) I packed up my stuff, bought a cheap apartment, and became piano player at the local bar.

By the time I graduated, though, my crush on Gerard Way developed slightly more into a love- an unrequited love, almost similar to Romeo's "love" for Rosaline, except mine was not to be forgotten and proven false. He had a girlfriend, Karen Banks. She was everything I wasn't- pretty, stupid, (Yes, I was smart, she wasn't) kind, thoughtful, on the upside of the social ladder, friendly and the list goes on, but I _loathed _her.

Soon after I got my job, I became upset over the newest "item" that was "adorable" because they were going to the same art-school. So upset, that I asked Louis, the owner of _Louis Pub _to give me the strongest alcohol he had. (When I look back at that moment, I wonder why he gave that to an eighteen year old girl) To say the least, I don't remember much of my senior year. That year was the worst.

Then, Gerard and Karen left. I was still drinking, but not as heavily. I earned enough money to pay the rent, but I still needed more. So, I applied for a job at the local coffee shop. (Where I did manage to get the job) I worked the day shift there five days a week and played at the bar seven days a week. Those four years were great, even though my unrequited love was still there.

But, of course, the good times come and go. After Gerard and Karen finished art-school, Gerard managed to buy the apartment next to mine. And my God, I lost it- I lost _all _my humanity. I would work at the coffee shop during the day, and _every single day _he would come in and order the same thing. (One tall mocha with skim and a small black coffee) And every night I would do the same thing, go home, go to the bar, play the piano, and drown out my problems. This happened for a whole year.

* * *

Then, Gerard started to not show up at the coffee shop, and if he did, he would only order one coffee. Yes, I know I was his neighbor, and I heard yelling from his apartment, but I tuned it out. It was not my business; I am not a nosy neighbor. (Not that he would notice me anyway)

But, one night after my nightly shift at the bar while I was talking to Bob, the bartender, I noticed him, at a corner table all the way in the back by himself. I was clearly intoxicated; I was trying to drown my troubles, but even then, I knew he was like _me- _he had a problem, and I went over to talk to him.

The alcohol pulsing through my body definitely gave me more courage than the "invisible Padme'" would ever have. But, I did it. I managed to walk over to Gerard without spilling my vodka and tonic.

I introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Padme."He just took a sip of his drink and looked at the table. I tried again. "What'cha drinkin'?"I knew what he was drinking. It was clearly written on his Heineken bottle, and he knew I knew. (I honestly had no idea how to talk to people, intoxicated or not.) He asked me if I was named after Padme Amidala from Star Wars and I laughed. He told me about how he had a rough break-up with his girlfriend two days before he was going to propose. It was a truly heart-wrenching story for most normal people, but I am, sadly, not most normal people.

I tried to act sympathetic, but my insides screamed 'YOU HAVE A CHANCE! AT LAST!' He asked me why I was here. (Apparently, being the 'musical entertainment' that gets free drinks because she is friends with the owner doesn't cut it) So, I told him how there was this guy that I've liked since high school. At first, it was just a crush but it developed into a beautiful monster that was eating me. "He was someone that people liked." I said. "I wasn't anybody." And it continued. Soon, it was senior year and his girlfriend and he were going off to school and I was left here, bar entertainment and alcoholic at just eighteen.

"I did get better," I said. "But then he came back and moved in a block away from me." I had to say this because if he wasn't already suspicious, saying he lived right next door to me would have made it impossible to no guess I was talking about him. "And I got worse. Again."

Told Gerard that I saw 'him' every day at my day job, and how he never acknowledged my existence. I told him about how I have been an alcoholic since I was eighteen. He seemed to understand. He knew what it was like to be so caught up in your feelings that you needed to drown them out.

We talked for a while about petty things, like our professions and other stupid stuff like that. He was a cartoonist. I told him I was a barista by day and piano player by night. When we finished our drinks, he ordered another. I didn't want him to know where I lived (I was a paranoid drunk) so I left when he received his drink.

"Goodbye!" he said. I smiled and waved. I couldn't stop smiling as I walked out to my car. _GERARD WAY _TALKED TO _ME! _No one _ever _talks to me. I tried my best to drive myself home safely that night and I did. I hurried inside my apartment, took a shower, put on pajamas (a tee-shirt and some soffe shorts), and fell into a blissful sleep.

* * *

The next couple months went well. I became closer to Gerard. He found out I worked at the coffee shop, and we would talk whenever he came in for his daily coffee. He would sometimes come early enough to Louis's to see me play. He said my piano playing was "extremely talented", but I didn't believe him.

I continued to follow my strategy of leaving when he ordered a new drink, and it seemed to work for a while, but, he caught on. One night, he asked if he could drive me home. My drunken self couldn't say no. So, let's say, that night he found out I was his neighbor. He flipped out, but it was a good flip out- I think.

We developed ourselves a schedule. Gerard would drive me to the bar, listen to me play the piano, and then, we would each have a few drinks. (As each week passed, we each had fewer and fewer drinks) It was nice to have a friend to talk to, just for the sake of talking. Over this time, Gerard found out that Padme Jones could be a standup comedian and as a very good voice. (Apparently the walls separating our apartments aren't very sound proof. But, I already knew that.)

We actually became good friends, until one night, when he kissed me on the cheek before I went into my apartment. He said it was friendly and I agreed with a red face. No one's ever kissed me on the cheek (Well, my parents did, but that's beside the point), or anywhere for that matter. It's kind of pathetic, _Padme Jones- the twenty three year old virgin. _So for me, this "friendly" kiss on the cheek was a pretty big deal.

I thought about "it" all night. The next day he said nothing of the thing that was eating me up inside. In fact, he didn't mention it at all in the next weeks that followed, and this small friendly gesture proved, once again, that my unrequited love was still there.

But once again, God knows that good things must go. One night at the bar, Gerard started talking to me about this girl who he never really noticed until this year and he didn't know what to do. "All I want to do when I see her is kiss her." He told me. It's a fact that drunken people are the most honest, so as the honest drunk I am, I replied. "You should tell her how you feel." He smiled and said "Okay." We finished our drinks and, on the way home, it was obnoxiously silent. It was driving me crazy- _Who was the girl?_

As I unlocked the door to my apartment, he grabbed my shoulder and kissed me, an actual kiss. At first, I didn't know what to do, but when I recuperated from the initial shock, I kissed him back. There was so much adrenaline and alcohol pulsing through me I didn't care. I have wanted to do this since forever. His hands worked their way through my hair and mine through his. I let the alcohol do the work, because I had no idea what to do. I'd never kissed anyone before. I panicked and pulled away; quietly peeped out a thank you and scurried inside my apartment.

I ran into the bathroom and cried as I got undressed for the shower. I just ruined everything! _I _was the girl he was talking about! I should be happy, but (as usual) I screwed it up. Now Gerard thinks I hate him. I finial got all I ever wanted in life and, in return, I get a ruined friendship. I couldn't stop the sobs that ran through my body. I went to bed crying. The next morning, I called in sick for work. I was a mess. My eyes were red and puffy. And later, I called Louis to tell him I wouldn't be able to make it.

Louis was a father figure to me. He didn't push me to tell him why I was upset if I didn't feel the need to tell him. This was the first time in a while (five years) that I didn't have a drink at all. It felt weird having a clear head. It was nice, not forgetting. But, I wanted to forget.

I kept telling myself that I needed to talk to Gerard. I needed to tell him I was sorry, and that I didn't hate him. So, I decided to. At six o'clock that night, I went over and knocked on his door. _Once, twice, three times._ I turned to door to check and see if it was unlocked, which it was. I walked in to find Gerard, passed out on the couch. This was my entire fault. I ran up to him and started crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I kept crying. I kissed his forehead and checked his pulse. He was still alive, just unconscious. "I…I think I'm in love with you, Gerard." I cried. I fell asleep crying next to him. (I was sitting on the floor)

When I woke up, I was in a strange room and a strange bed. It smelled of booze, cigarette smoke, and axe shampoo. It was a nice, pleasant smell to wake up to. (Or at least I thought it was) It looked like a room similar to my own. I got up and grabbed an empty bottle on the bedside table and then, silently moved down the hallway. Towards the kitchen, I started to see a figure. It was Gerard, and he was making coffee. I placed the bottle down on the floor, and walked into the kitchen area.

"It's said that unconscious people still are in tuned with their hearing." He said and continued. "Did you really mean what you said?" He walked over to me and grabbed my chin with his hand and steadily said. "Look me in the eye and tell me you love me." Oh- how I wanted to tell him about how I saved myself for him; that he was the boy that I fell in love with all those years back. But, I'm just "shy little Padme" and I do absolutely nothing right. As I turned to push his hand off my face, a thought popped into my head.

_KISS HIM! _My brain screamed to me. So, being the rash thinker I am, I did. I turned around and kissed him. All that I wanted to say was in that kiss, and as our lips danced in sync with each other, his hands glided through my hair as we traveled down the hallway into his room where I would end up waking in the morning.

* * *

The twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth years of my life were great. Gerard and I were dating, and were the "it" couple of the bar. He got a job for Cartoon Network. I still worked at the coffee shop and bar. We sobered up. Everything was perfectly normal, until the dreaded day of September eleventh.

Gerard was in New York when the planes crashed viciously into the Twin Towers. He told me he saw it all happen. I kept calling and calling him, but he wouldn't pick up. But- that night he came home, rattled up, but home all the same. He told me he wanted to start a band. He stated that he was getting nowhere with his current job for Cartoon Network. Gerard, just to be funny, added that I could play piano or something. (I declined…for the most part) I told him to go for the band- and he did.

He phoned up his brother, Mikey, who I met for the first time. He was a comic nerd and head over tea cups for punk rock. (I didn't understand, I particularly enjoyed classic rock, but he said no classic rock chic would.) Mikey was sweet, though, and you just couldn't hate him, no matter how hard you tried. He asked me if I was named after Padme Amidala, just like his brother did. But, this time I was prepared and said, "She was named after me." which earned laughs all around and a sweet kiss on the cheek from Gerard. Mikey was a bassist, he was much better at playing the bass than Gerard, and that's all that mattered. (Gerard went into a long explanation about how he had artist hands, which prohibited him from being skilled at the guitar. I won't bore you with the details. )

Then he called up Ray, who I briefly remembered from high school. He was to play guitar. He seemed to remember me too, because he said he always thought m name was Spectra. (Where he gets that from Padme Jones, the world may never know.)

Gerard called in some drummer that I have never met. (I think his name was Matt…he was temporary) His band soon started recording songs. While recording, they met some guy named Frank, who ended up playing rhythmic guitar (Whatever that is) in the band. Their first album was completed and a success.

The next album, _Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge,_ was made up partially because of me. Gerard was back to being an alcoholic, which killed me (he thought that he could only perform for crowds completely wasted) He started doing drugs too, which terrified me. I kept telling him to stop, and he would scream at me, telling me it was his life. I told him to snap out of it once, after that, he hit me and told me to get out and never come back. (We were in PA so it was only a two hour drive back to Jersey)

I became an absolute mess. I went back to my apartment; he sold his while he was away. As much as I wanted to stay sober, I couldn't. I drank until Louis kicked me out. At that moment in my life, I decided to start over. I had enough money saved up to get a four year teaching degree at the local community college.

I got into the college, and halfway through my second year, actually on my thirtieth birthday, Gerard's band released their next album. (One song, _I Don't Love You_, sounded like it was written for me) Two of the songs off the album became hits. (I secretly enjoyed them, but an ex-girlfriend never admits to that.)

I graduated from college, and two weeks later, my parents, who I haven't spoken to in twelve years, died in a car accident. After I left, they became millionaires somehow; so I, naturally, as their only child, received all their inheritance. I sold my apartment, quit my jobs, and set off for California. (Why California? I wanted to be as far away from New Jersey as possible)

When I got there, I booked a cheap hotel room until I found a place. Two weeks later, I did. It was a cute little apartment in the nicer part of the city. It was right above the recording studio in the town.

In 2010, it was all over the news that Gerard Way got married and, his wife had a baby. At first I was upset- no- furious. I started to drink again, a lot. I drank so much that Alexander, the owner of the local bar, had to kick me out and drive me home. (He's sixty years old and married. He did it out of the kindness of his heart. Trust me, I interrogated him.)

Alex really helped me out. He offered me the job as a piano player at his bar, which I graciously accepted. (We have a running local joke that my last song of the night has to be _Piano Man, _even though that I am obviously a woman.) He helped me out with my "problem" and helped me realize that I still loved Gerard, and since I still do, if he is happy, then I should be too.

At first I wanted nothing to do with this idea. I would scream at Alex. "That baby should be MINE!" or other pointless crap like that. (What can I say; I was always the jealous type.) But, I got over myself and got myself a teaching job. (A pre-school teacher at a top-of-the-hill school.)

Every now and then Gerard and his wife, Lindsey, would stop in O'Malley's Pub and Eatery (I know super fancy name.) for a drink. They would sometimes dance to the pianos music that I produced with my miniature fingers, and instead of being jealous of her, I was grateful. I was thankful that she made Gerard happy when I couldn't. It made me happy to see Gerard happy. (I know. My feelings are so confusing.)

The next three years were went good and fast for me. I made friends- three to be exact. There was Jemma, who owned a parchment shop down the street, a guy named Bob, who was a drummer in a band, but, now is a professional wood carver, and Prilla, a fashion designer. It was fun having friends. Since Alex gave me Tuesdays off, we would all do something fun that night. (We would usually go bowling then get a drink or two at the bar.)

But those days came and went. Prilla got promoted or something (I don't know anything about the world of fashion) and, had to move away to New York, New York. Gerard's band broke up, and it left me heartbroken. The band almost felt like my baby to me, I guess, because Gerard asked me if it would be okay to start it. (I know. I know. Padme Jones is a first class weirdo)

It was just Bob, Jemma, and me that year. Gerard and Lindsey still came to the bar. One night, she came over and talked to me while I was on break. "Hi, I'm Lindsey." She shook my hand. "You're such a good pianist. It's not every day you find a good musician like you." I smiled. "Thank you." I responded. "I'm Padme." She, like her husband and brother-in-law, asked if I was named after Padme Amidala. "No, that's funny. A good friend of mine asked me the same thing." She laughed and beckoned her husband. She introduced me to him and went to get another drink. We had some (Unknown to her) catching up to do.

"The mysterious Padme Jones," He said. "Always playing piano in little local bars." I laughed. "Nice to see you, Gerard." He kissed my cheek. I knew it was friendly, though I wish it wasn't, but those days were over for me. We talked about the past. After I left while he was on tour, he cleaned up, in seventeen days. Lindsey came over and Gerard told her that was an old friend. (He left out the ex-girlfriend part. That's always a good sign) "I just got clean about three years ago. It was hard. How'd you manage to do it in seventeen days?" He laughed it off.

He was writing comics now; I told him that I went to college, and got my teaching degree and how I was currently teaching at a nice pre-school. (Lindsey told me that she was going to send their daughter there next year. They weren't happy with their current pre-school, I guess.) We talked until my break was over, when at the end, Gerard suggested that I should play one of his songs. I laughed and said "Why not?" It's nice talking to him again. To quote a song, "You don't know what you got till its gone." really describes my relationship with him.

* * *

It's currently 2014, and I, Padme Jones, am thirty eight years old. It's amazing how much I've went through in the past twenty years- the ups, the downs- but it was all worth it. I still love Gerard, and I always will, not in a romantic way, but as a sister loves her brother. I've moved on. I have a boyfriend now and I just got engaged. (It's kind of ironic, his name is Anakin. I completely blame Jemma for setting me up with her brother. Gerard won't stop making fun of me for it.) But I'm happy with the way my life turned out, and I wouldn't change it for the world. If there's anything I learned it would be that it's okay to be scared, and angry, and hurting, because all those things help you grow up and be this amazing person.

* * *

**Hello agian. This was a dream i had the other night and i decided to write it down. I do not own Gerard Way or the rest of My Chem. Just the plot and my characters. I want to say thank you to my friend who helped me fix the hundreds of misspelled words in this and for telling me that this story was excellent. I'm not abandoning my other story. The next Chapter is all written out, i just have to finish typing it. **

**SONG INSPIRATIONS:**

**"The Entertainer" Billy Joel**

**"I Don't Love You" My Chemical Romance**

**"Piano Man" Billy Joel**

**"Big Yellow Taxi" Joni Mitchel**

**"To The End" My Chemical Romance**

**"I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight" U2**


End file.
